Summer at Seaside Cove (29 page)

She set her hands on his chest, pushed him back, and looked at him with an unreadable expression. “You don't have any condoms?”

“No.” Damn it to hell and back.

“You mean you don't have one handy, or you don't have any in the house?”

“None. Anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“Because I haven't been having sex and I wasn't expecting”—he gave her denim-clad ass a gentle squeeze—“this. You.”

“But you always use a condom—right?”

“Of course. Always. You?”

“Always. So tell me—how long have you not been having sex?”

“A while. Not since I moved here.”

Her brows shot up. “Really?”

“Really. Between working on Southern Comfort and helping out Kevin, I've been busy. Getting laid wasn't a priority.”

“That's a sentence I never thought I'd ever hear any man utter.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Well, it wasn't a priority until you showed up.” He shoved aside the disturbing realization that he hadn't wanted anyone but her since she'd shown up.

“Still, it seems you'd at least have a supply of condoms on hand. You know, in case you got lucky.”

“Sweetheart, the only store I've been to in the last four months besides the Piggly Wiggly and Milton's Bait Shop is Home Depot, and to the best of my knowledge, they don't sell condoms at Home Depot.”

“They don't sell them at the Piggly Wiggly?”

“Don't know. Never looked.”

“As for Home Depot—it seems like they might carry them in the plumbing aisle. Or in hardware. You know, with all the screws and nails.”

“You're killing me.” He leaned forward and lightly scraped his teeth over the outline of one hard nipple pressing against her tank top. She gasped and arched her back, and Nick cursed his poor planning. “Much as I'd like to continue this here and now, I need to find an open drugstore.”

Again she pushed him back and looked at him through glittering eyes. “You might not have been a good Boy Scout, but I was a
very
good Girl Scout.” She held up the plastic bag she'd carried from the convenience store and swayed it like a pendulum between them.

“What's in there?”

“Condoms,” she said. “The party pack. Thirty-six of 'em. I'm a firm believer that a girl should always bring her own. Just in case.”

Nick skimmed one hand into her hair and dragged her forward until their mouths nearly touched. “Thirty-six—that should get us through the night,” he whispered against her lips.

“Still think I'm a pest?”

“Hell, no. I think you're . . .”
Magnificent. Incredible. Sexy as hell. And you've got me so hard I can barely think straight.
“A genius.”

“There
are
some advantages to being detail oriented.”

“Obviously.” He slipped the fingers of one hand under the hem of her denim shorts and explored the lacy edge of her underwear. “There're plenty of details on you I'd like to—”

“Orient?”

“Among other things. How about you and me and our thirty-six new best friends head inside?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” Then she frowned and her expression turned serious. “But first . . .” She hesitated, pulled in what seemed like a bracing breath, then continued, “You told me after our first kiss that you liked me a little. You also said I should give complete honesty a try, so here goes: I like you, too. More than a little.” Then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “And just so you know—you had me at ‘lick you like an ice cream cone.' ”

Complete honesty.
The words ricocheted through his brain, tempering his anticipation with a hard slap of guilt. While he hadn't lied to her, he'd omitted a lot of details about himself. About what he'd left behind. Right or wrong, he'd made the choice to keep his past, his circumstances to himself.

If you tell her, you know what'll happen,
his gut whispered.

Yeah, he knew. Which was why he hadn't told her. And didn't want to. Because he knew she'd tell him to take a hike.

Maybe someday he'd tell her. But not now. She gently bit his earlobe and he gritted his teeth against the dark pleasure that shuddered through him.

Definitely not now.

Her revelation that he'd had her at
lick you like an ice cream cone
floated into his mind and he vividly recalled the first words she'd said to him, when he'd answered his door and discovered his disgruntled new neighbor glaring at him. And it suddenly dawned on him that it was very possible
she'd
had
him
at
It's about time you answered the door.

W
ith Godiva leading the way, Jamie followed Nick up Southern Comfort's stairs. She glanced over at Paradise Lost and noted all the windows were dark. Hopefully her mom and Alex had spent their day alone talking out their problems and solving their issues. Which hopefully led to her mother relenting and allowing Alex into the bedroom rather than making him sleep on the sofa. Which would hopefully lead to a full-on reconciliation that would hopefully send them back to New York. Like tomorrow.

She returned her attention to climbing the stairs and was greeted by the sight of Nick's very fine jean-clad butt right in front of her. Darn it, if only her superpower were X-ray vision! Well, no problem—those Levis would be off him soon enough.

She tightened her grip on the bag containing the condoms and offered up a mental
thank God
she'd bought them. She'd only done so because as far as she was concerned, it was a woman's responsibility to see to her own protection. The fact that Nick didn't have any condoms because he hadn't had sex—for
months
—well, that suffused her with a warm, melty feeling she didn't want to examine too closely. Much better that she just concentrate on the sex and shove aside anything that smacked of emotion. This was a temporary fling with her sexy neighbor. Nothing more.

And speaking of the sex . . . God help her, she couldn't wait. While she would have waited for him to return from the drugstore, she was damn glad it wasn't necessary. Her skin felt about three sizes too small, as if she were an overripe fruit about to burst. She hadn't felt this primed, this edgy, this sexually needy in . . . ever. Like she wanted to claw off his clothes, shove him to the floor, and have her wicked way with him.

He unlocked the door and she followed him inside. The need to touch him, to be touched by him—
now
—struck her like a lightning bolt. She pushed the door closed with her foot, grabbed a handful of his T-shirt, and yanked him toward her. He obviously didn't have a problem with that because before she could even think
who the hell needs foreplay?
he'd backed her against the wall, his mouth was on hers, his tongue stroking and delving, and his hands . . . God his hands, those big, strong, callused hands were everywhere. Tunneling through her hair. Yanking her tank top over her head. Teasing her hard nipples. Unzipping her shorts. Shoving them and her panties to her ankles, where she kicked them along with her flip-flops aside with an impatient flick of her foot. All while kissing her to within an inch of her life.

Jamie's hands were just as eager and busy, plunging beneath the soft cotton of his T-shirt to coast up his smooth back, then forward to greedily glide over the fascinating hard ridges of his abdomen. Desperate for more, she broke off their frantic kiss, grabbed the ends of his shirt and gave it a hard, impatient upward tug. His gaze met hers and she damn near melted on the spot from the fire burning in his eyes.

After tossing his shirt aside, she attacked the button on his jeans, but her quest was derailed when he hooked a hand under her thigh. He raised her leg, settling it high on his hip, then cupped her sex.

Her head thunked back against the wall and a low groan that felt dragged from her soul rattled in her throat.

He teased her folds, then slipped a finger inside her. “You're wet,” he said in a ragged whisper against her lips.

If she'd been capable of forming a full sentence, she might have said that her aroused state could hardly be surprising given that the entire last five weeks had felt like foreplay. But she wasn't capable, so she just gripped his shoulders, arched into his hand, and demanded, “More.”

And holy moly, he followed directions well. His mouth covered hers in a searing kiss, his tongue moving in tandem with his fingers, his other hand teasing her taut nipples, driving her to the brink of sanity. He performed some sort of magic with his hand, and her orgasm screamed through her, pulsing white-hot shards of pleasure to her every cell, dragging a harsh cry from her throat. Aftershocks were still trembling through her when she dragged her eyes open. And found him watching her, his green eyes nearly black with arousal.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Absolutely beautiful. Are you always that impatient?”

“Jeez, is that a complaint?” she asked, fighting to catch her breath.

“Hell no. I like you aroused and impatient.” His scorching gaze raked downward to where his fingers continued to lightly caress her. “I even like you bossy—when you're naked.”

“Good.” She slipped her hand into his unbuttoned jeans and cupped his erection, enjoying his sharply indrawn breath. “Take off your jeans. Then douse this damn fire you started. Because it's far from out.”

“Best news I've ever heard.” Without taking his gaze off her, he stepped back. Jamie locked her knees so she wouldn't slither to the floor, her gaze avid and greedy as he toed off his sneakers, pulled off his socks, then lowered his jeans and underwear with a single impatient movement. Boxer briefs, she noted. Probably they looked damn good on him. But whoa, baby . . . he looked really damn good without them.

He grabbed the condom box, ripped open a packet, and sheathed himself. In the next heartbeat he stepped between her legs, grasped her bottom, and lifted her.

“You're gonna want to hold on,” he ground out in a harsh rasp.

Jamie gripped his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his hips, then gasped when he entered her in a single, heartstopping thrust.

Their harsh, choppy breaths filled the room as he stroked her. Hard, fast, relentless. Propelling her toward another orgasm. Her climax engulfed her like a giant wave, drowning her in its intensity. Her arms and legs tightened around him, and she buried her face in the curve where his neck and shoulder met while her entire body convulsed with pleasure. With a ragged groan he thrust deep and joined her in his own release.

Still panting and clinging to him like wallpaper, Jamie managed to lift her head. And found herself looking into eyes that looked as glazed as she felt. Speech was beyond her. Otherwise, she would have told him that was amazing. That she hadn't felt like that since . . . ever, and she couldn't wait to feel that way again. That she now knew what his superpower really was—the ability to bring her to orgasm with ridiculous ease, and hot damn, how lucky could a girl get?

But there was no way she could string that many words together, so she said the only thing she could.

“Wow.”

He rested his forehead against hers and gently squeezed her butt. “Yeah. Wow.”

She was greatly impressed that he'd managed two words. She sucked in some much-needed oxygen, and when her heart rate returned to something close to normal, she managed to say, “Thanks. I needed that.”

He huffed out a quick laugh. “Me, too. So thanks right back at ya.”

She unlocked her ankles and her boneless legs slipped down and her feet hit the floor. Nick withdrew and took a single step back.

“Don't move,” he said.

“Okay. Good thing you said that. Otherwise I would have run screaming into the night to get away from you.”

His lips curved into a slow, wicked grin that didn't do anything to shore up her knees, which felt like overcooked noodles. He stepped into the kitchen, and after quickly disposing of the condom, he grabbed the box, then in a feat of strength and brawn that had her heaving a gushy sigh, he swung her up into his arms and strode toward the living area.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his jaw. “Where are we going?”

He entered his bedroom. “My den of depravity.”

“Oh, goodie. Can I be bossy in here?”

“I'm counting on it. Bossy, demanding, whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want? That sounds promising. How about what
you
want?”

“With thirty-five condoms left, I'm not worried.” He shouldered his way into the bathroom, then set her on her feet. After turning on the shower he drew her into his arms. “Since hard and fast went so well,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck with his warm lips, “let's take a shower, then see how we do with soft and slow.”

“I've lost track of how many times we've agreed today,” Jamie said, stepping over the edge of the tub, then moving beneath the cascade of warm water. Nick stepped in behind her and reached for the soap. She leaned back against his chest and luxuriated in the sensation of his big, soapy hands gliding with agonizing leisure over her skin, circling her breasts. Dipping into her navel. Then lower, to caress her folds.

“Spread your legs.” The husky command whispered past her ear, shooting tingles of delight right down to her toes.

“Now who's being bossy?” she asked, lifting her leg and setting it on the edge of the tub.

“Me. That a problem, princess?”

His talented fingers slipped between her thighs and Jamie groaned. “Absolutely not. Bossy doesn't scare me.”